Romance
by Children of Summer
Summary: AU. In which, slowly but surely Alfred finds himself more and more attached to the brilliant persona that is Thomas Barrow.
1. Chapter 1 Epilogue

A/N: Please enjoy and thank you kindly for reading.

* * *

_It was certainly one of the most usual, tiresome and dull days they always had, after which you feel yourself repressed and all you can dream of is your pretty bed. So it wouldn't occur to anyone, that one person - a one particular person - might be standing at the middle of the night, strangely so, in front of the door of the no less mysterious man, with icy eyes, silky dark hair and delicately soft skin, with a one strict desire...  
_

_If anyone said that he was drawn to Mr Barrow one week ago, he would've never listened to that person ever again, and simply laughed at this pretendious idea. What would his auntie said? She would definitely hit him with something heavy and tell him off, or to be quiet sure she would pass out in the minute the words had gone from his dry mouth. She would never approve that kind of 'relationship', although what this relationship is and what most importantly, - if I can call it a 'relationship'. It is a relationship, very much so, probably I can, but it's very complicated.  
How am I supposed to prove me manliness now? No matter how hard I wanted, tried not to laugh hysterically and sweetly, as fair maids do when they are in the situation that requires men's assistance, I always found myself doing it moreoften. Sometimes it was so humilliating, when it happened just next to the person, who made his chest feel tight and breath ragged, steady; whose persona, efficiently sent the faint shivers down his spine. How could anyone stay calm as ever and remain still in his presence? He definitely has a specific effect on me and all me body. At first I paid a little attention to this side of my reflections to him, but further I discovered him, further I became fond of him in every possible way, to be quite honest. It was so hard to sit on the same chair where Mr Barrow was sitting few hours ago, or especially, at breakfast - his so amazingly colour-shifting eyes always have been focused on my shyly ones, causing me to cast them down all the time. I could almost accidentally bump shoulders with him in the corridors, and lingered my gaze on his full lips, until our eyes were locked and this smug grin appeared on his face, so that would force me to mumble something as 'excuse me, didn't see where I was going' and venture out.  
_

_Few days after that embarrassing scene in the great hall, he was trying to pretend that nothing special had happened, and was using any opportunity to sneak up into the kitchen without been noticed by initiator of it. He dared not look at him anymore, and therefore ignored him completely._

_"_What is the matter with you today, Alfred_?"_

_Mr Barrow, actually cornered me and there was no way he would spare his hidden feelings now._

"It's nothing, honestly. You'd rather find Daisy's new dress more amusing and interesting than _that._" He would as always, nervously lick his lips and close his eyes to calm his nerves.

Thomas' head snapped up and turned toward Alfred again. "Thank you for your concern, Alfred, but I shall decide myself what's attract my attention and what is not."

A quick nod as a response.

"You had me worried, what's troubling you?" he asked, serious, but then a lopsided grin changed his face, "You've been oddly quiet for the past few days, what does that could possibly mean? Do I know the reason to all of this?" Thomas took a step towards him, and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to encourage him. He squeezed gently, trying to make him answer.

Alfred noticed the uncharacteristic shyness that seemed to have taken hold of him and his heart skipped a beat at the sudden touch. _Was he on purpose invading his personal space? He came so close, so he could sense the nervousness that emboldened me; perhaps the anticipation of this long waiting moment as well.__  
_

"Dare ask if _I'm the reason?" _Slowly Thomas moved his fingers over Alfred's elbow, and trailed them along the forearm and then his palm, causing him to slightly open his mouth and his eyes to flutter half-closed.

Alfred shivered at the contact and locked his eyes with him. _How surreal it all was, but couldn't deny the sensation of those merely touches. _

"Is that a 'yes'?" Thomas traced a small circle on the inner side of his palm and Alfred caught his breath, losing the ability to speak.

"Mhhh, uhh...I ha- must go, excuse me Mr Barrow and my clumsiness." He scowled from Thomas' hand and despite the visual fact that he actually was so confused and might've felt something pleasant having such a close impact with Mr Barrow, he didn't waste any minute and vanished as fastly as he could.

"The evidence speaks otherwise." said Mr Barrow and grinned, looking at the running footman.

In that minute he was completely concious of his drumming heart and the heat in his cheeks. He took few deep long breaths, and leaned in against the wall.

_Just concentrate. He couldn't fancy him, could he? Even the whole idea of fancying another man was absurd. He was shocked, but he knew that feeling already. It's always been about the ..but now he's feeling that it is something more deep and - sophisticating. This was it, and there was no way back. He must confess, at least to himself._

He quite so, fancies Mr Barrow.


	2. Chapter 2 Day One

Day One.

Tuesday.

_It was a pleasant feeling. He was content. Wasn't sure what made him feeling so relieved and in the same time dizzy, but it was a sweet pressure, if it could be called so._

* * *

He rose to his feet at the half of six and prepared himself for the daily matters. As usual it took him only fifteen minutes to get ready, but today he spent too much time, polishing his silver watch, a gift from an old acquaintance, - he will treasure dearly - and with one last look at the mirrow, he came out of the room.

_Oh no! Forgot to brush me hair. They are so soft and don't require any kind of treatment, just need to be stroked moreoften. Oi, it's a neccesserary thing for now.  
_

Being the second footman means that you have to do exactly everything that does the first, but more accurately, well in case with Jimmy Kent, he was meant to have an eye on him constantly and undo the things that seemed to be done incorrectly, - in another words - clear the mess he creates around himself all the time. He wasn't in deep thinking for now, so he could hear the milling in the kitchens and hurried down there; He probably was a bit late for breakfast but with a decent feeling of his absolute self-confidence, he appeared at the main entrance, as if nothing happened, greeting everyone with usual "Good morning" and sat opposite Anna.

An exquisitely kind and a good person. She's always given him a feeling of comfort and tranquillity. And now, she addressed him with the softest smile, he's ever seen.

_Admire Anna. Always look up to her. In spite of the fact he wasn't so good at words or declaring his tender feelings of fondness, she knew exactly everything he wanted to say, as if she was seeing through him.  
_

Carefully he looked around to see if anyone could spot his, definitely rosy cheeks, but everyone seemed to be pretty busy with dishes and their small talks.

He nodded his understanding and absentmindedly chewed his bottom lip, blushing under her tempting eyes.

One person was missing.

_He's been to the fields, collecting the grass I presume for his sweetheart. For Alfred's sweetheart, to be more precise. A bit an odd variant of showing his attitude toward a maid, but that was Jimmy. He could give her a promising look and a sweet-nothing in the ears and the blood would be damping so fast in her veins, just so._

The footsteps on the stairs were so noisy, so that Alfred eventually did sense the presence of his fellow colleague, hovering next to him, did feel the gaze locked on him for a moment, before Jimmy pulled one of the plates to sit right in front of him, took the fork in his hand and winked at the passing through him, reddened Ivy. Alfred felt Jimmy watch him closely and when he turned his gaze to the left, he took in Jimmy's slight, satisfied, smug smile in pure contradiction to the raised eyebrow and questioning gaze he wore.

"What? It was a lovely sentiment. Never heard of it Alfred, didn't you?" Jimmy took a long slow sip of tea, not breaking the eye contact.

_He's ridiculous. A sentiment? He's after her just to provoke me. A bucket of rocks.  
_

"I'm highly educated in that area, and doubt you sincerely understand the great and deep meaning of this word, may add as well, that your endeavours with maids are as silly as your stupid '_Jimmy wave'!" _He hissed and put a fork on the plate, standing up. "She's a lovely piece of sweetness, and you," he gestured at Jimmy, gathering strength. "Doesn't deserve any affections she bears toward a silly, arrogant and awfully spoiled child."

He didn't dare look at anyone, as the room felt silent after his unexpected outburst. Even Mr Carson said nothing. But it was seen that he was struggling; struggling to rise his low voice and tell him off, or not. His brows narrowed and lips thickened, underlining the state of his mind. In any other circumstances he'd prevent such a misbehaviour, but now he couldn't put into words what needs to be proclaimed, but his expression said itself all the unspoken words.

"Leave him, Mr Carson, he's not being himself." said Mrs Huges evenly, "Alfred-"

But he was already out of their sight, so he couldn't see the confusion and then the grimace on Jimmy's face, a glimpse of worry on Anna's and mostly others...

"A brave young man, though." Thomas looked up upon his newspaper and the hint of a tiny smile appeared on his lips.

"Yes, indeed so." Daisy exclaimed, frantically.

After few moments Mr Carson cleared his throat and declared with his low voice and usual tembre. "Well, I suppose we all need to carry on with breakfast and then not wasting any time, come back to work...-"

xXx

_What exactly happened today? Whether it was because of his constant feeling of insecurity, or his terrific clumsiness and a crave for a good sleep,_  
_It's all started at the late breakfast. Such an ordinary morning I daresay, dull and busy but with few or more exceptions; first and the most important that Ivy's been preoccupied by the flowers that dollophead brought her. So, terribly romantic Mr Kent, wasn't it? She, of course, was so touched by this grand gesture that didn't see me trying to invite her to come with me to the Thirsk this Saturday. Ohh. And then Jimmy melted Mrs Patmor's heart for the hundredth time this day, by making the resemblance with her and a fair sunflower. Seriously, a sunflower?_ _And the other exception was his sudden outburst. Lovely, isn't it?_ _It was all Jimmy's fault, it's always been so,- he set sights on making Ivy his sweetheart, - but it wasn't serious, just a bluff to __out-witt me and prove that he's the women's lionheart. What an absurd? Or perhaps there was something else, something that he'd like to keep unrevealed, but only perhaps...  
_

It was already noon, and the only room in the house that was bathed with a gleaming light of a table lamp, was Alfred's room. He fell asleep in his chair, too exhausted, with his head lowered, and a lot of parchments around him - on the study table, floor and in his hands. He dreamed of something pleasant, soothing. But few moments later, as the window was half-opened, and the autumn wind blew gently across his sleeping face and figure, the parchment crafts slipped on the floor with a rustle which immediately woke Alfred up. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at the Jimmy's sleeping head - he didn't even move - and then at his watch._  
_

"It's almost one o'clock." he exclaimed loudly, and bit on his bottom lip, looking at sleeper. Jimmy shifted comfortably in his bed and kept on snoring.

_Oh, nearly awaken him, but the research must be done by the seven in morning. He should find another place to work forthwith. _

Alfred took some books and parchments from the table and sorted the ones that fell off, doing it very carefully, less noisy this time. Once it was finished, he made his way toward the door and went out.

Eventually he ran up stairs and until no one could see him, settled around the big clock - there was a little nested table - so he sat down there and started reading the first passage of the book called as "A proper introduction into the world of poetry."

"It is very important to understand that - to write a particular poem - you need to feel, to live all the spectre of thorough and deep and strong emotions that's you've already experienced. The poem must contain of the sincere feelings that's based on events that make you an observant of your thoughts and life; you should obtain them, indulging yourself to think of the great amount of beautiful aspects of objects, items-"

He was concentrating on reading but as one hour passed and he felt the presence of someone else in the room, to prevent any further discussions, he immediately closed the book, memorising the last chapter he read.

"Never stop writing." and also the underlined phrase. "Be in content with yourself and your emotional state."

Alfred covered the title of the book with his hand and turned to face the person who seemed to have important matters at half past three. The figure became more visible as it stepped farther into the room. The lightinng was better here due to the amount of electric candles, though his eyes were dizzy and he didn't recognise Thomas Barrow at the first, only when he spoke.

"Alfred? What are you doing here at this time? Aren't you supposed to be in your room?" asked Thomas, lowering his voice on Alfred's name.

He was full-clothed and without any hints of deep sleep. His all look was confused and but the corners of his mouth were curved a bit.

_What to say? To admit that he was trying to get into the world of beautiful rythms and lines, to make himself closer to the art of poetry. He could add something like 'he was trying to impress the lass' and that it is very important to him or that he just wanted to examine the old clock. What?_

"I.. was just thinking of the new recipe Mrs Patmore invented, so ..I" Alfred responded, trying not to look into those eyes.

"Hmm, and may I ask you why have you chosen this time to do it? And also how you related to Mrs Patmore's new culinary recipe?" Thomas' brows narrowed in suspicion and something else. Interest?

Alfred dared to look in his eyes and as he did so, his throat went dry and he already knew that he should tell everything.

"I was just reading, is all."

Thomas' paced through Alfred and then stepped around him. The youngster could feel the warmth of Thomas' breath on the back of his neck, thus making the tiny hair there stand on end.

"Reading? What it might be, exactly?" Thomas' asked and bent down to look closely. "May I?" added, politely.

Alfred nodded and lowered his hands. He didn't turn around, just stayed still on his chair, thinking of reasons why would Mr Barrow wanted to take a look at it? Why would it be interested to him? The thoughts of contemplaning the running had gone away few moments ago and now all he wanted to, is his opinion.

"Well, I must admit it intrigues me," he'd gone through some pages and paused. "You're intriguing me, Alfred." he closed the book and put it back on the table.

"You do approve it?" Alfred asked, spontaneously. He wasn't sure whether he said it aloud or thought of it, but he strongly so needed Thomas' approval. He was the first person that has found Alfred's secret, and showed a sincere curiousity about it. Deep down he felt that it was a right decision.

"Yes, I do," said Thomas and stepped over to the table, taking a seat next to him. "To prevent you anticipation," he paused. "I used to spend days making up poems, and was very, I suppose still very much adore doing it."

Alfred blinked up at him, confusion flickering over his features. "Poetry?"

"I love." Thomas smiled, genuinely. "Since the childhood. Sonnets, classical, nature poems, especially with fourteen lines." he continued, smiling. "I see your true intentions for now and if you wish I could talk to you about the important concepts of poetry and other basic things such as genres and techniques, the use of ambiguity, symbolism and other stylistic elements of poetic diction wich often leaves a poem open to multiple interpretations."

"That would be so kind of you. I'm grateful so." Alfred looked up at him and smiled shyly, but sincerely.

"I assure you, it'd be pleasure for me." Thomas declared, patting Alfred's forearm.

_Pleasure? He's going to teach me how to write poems! I'm so utterly delighted. I can't think rational, firstly because it's an early morning and haven't had sleep and that Thomas Barrow agreed to give me some poetry lessons. It was a beginning of something truly good, and he barely could wait._

Thomas' squeezed his arm gently and stood up. "We shall have some sleep for now, and tomorrow, well today at eleven o'clock in the evening we might start your lessons." he said, rubbing his hands. "I will give you something to learn by heart now and then ask you to repeat it for me, will you?"

"Of course." Alfred replied.

"It's a sonnet by William Shakespeare. I need you to learn it, well I'm aware you need more than one day, but try to practice through the day, when you working, memorise every single line, think of it and we will discuss it and many other things as well." Thomas' said and took something, - a piece of paper - from his pocket and put it on the table.

"I'll try my best to learn it on time." Alfred said, shaking his head.

_I didn't expect it to be so wonderful, but it is and feeling so pleased and convenient._

"You can, but the main thing is for now is quick introduction and then go to the important details, that is why you needed only to learn the words, next step will be to proceed the meaning of it, well I said enough for today; I shall declare the poem for you, so you could hear the intonation." he cleared his throat and spoke again.

O, how thy worth with manners may I sing,  
When thou art all the better part of me?  
What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?  
And what is't but mine own when I praise thee?  
Even for this let us divided live,  
And our dear love lose name of single one,  
That by this separation I may give  
That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone.  
O, absence what a torment wouldst thou prove,  
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave  
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,  
Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,  
And that thou teachest how to make one twain  
By praising him here who doth hence remain!

Alfred listened carefully and was completely astonished, to be quite sure his jaw clenched twice while Thomas' was reading;

When Thomas finished declaring the sonnet, his face was beaming with a lot of different emotions, which Alfred couldn't read, but he knew, - they were purely genuine. He felt it when their gazes locked, he could sense the strong connection to him through the poem, as he was able to get to know Thomas more, - the side of him, he never knew. Maybe for a moment he thought so, but then Thomas closed his eyes and remained quiet few minutes, and then he opened them again, he wasn't as bold and brazen as he had been when it had been him talking to others or acting, as shy and out of his depth was he now.

"You were very brave tonight, defending the honour of young maid. I found it quite chivalrous and noble." Thomas said, firmly and took a deep breath continued. "I suppose, I forbid you goodnight Alfred."

"Goodnight, Mr Barrow." Alfred said, with a low voice as he was being drowsy already.

With one last nod, Thomas headed toward the main entrance and dissappeared in the corridors.

Alfred was mesmerised with Thomas' reading and his voice was so calm, tender and soothing, so it was hard not to give in to sleep. But then he remembered the words that he'd said and suddenly he felt his heart sink.

_You were very brave tonight.  
_

Alfred just stood and stared for one long moment. His mind reeled with thoughts, memories, trying to decrypt Thomas' statement.

_You're intriguing me, Alfred._

At these thoughts, he stomach, strangely, but pleasantly so flipped and in the same minute he felt his body relaxed and his eyes were dizzy again.

_Such a soothing effect you have on me, Mr Barrow._

Few moments passed as he was still standing in the hall, with eyes half-closed, smiling heartedly and then went off to his room.


End file.
